


Vantage Point

by Niler



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niler/pseuds/Niler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's gone</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vantage Point

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in May of 2013. Unless you were there at the time and aware of what was happening in the fandom this might make little sense. If you were there this still might not make much sense ;)

 

 

Vantage Point

 

 

 

It's not always something big, sometimes it can be the smallest, seemingly most insignificant thing that does it. Well, yes, the straw that breaks the camel's back is no heavier, no weightier, no more _special_ than the other straws; it's more about positioning, timing. Had it been the first straw, then it would have been unremarkable, unremarked, but it hadn’t been the first straw, turns out that it had, in actual fact, been the _final_ straw...

 

 

**

 

There are many things he expects from Liam, many things he sees when he looks at him, one thing he couldn't possibly have expected was that looking at Liam's sleeping face would drive him away, make him not only want to run and hide, but actually do it – run and hide.

He didn't know he was going to do it, doesn't know until he looks at Liam's face in the dull morning light and sees something he hasn't seen before. Liam's awake, looking at him, smiling even in his half-awake state, reaching out, not with his hands (which are still asleep as far as Zayn can tell), but his smile, his easy affection.

Something inside flips; shuts down, but also wakes up.

Smiling, he leans in and places a careful kiss on his mouth. “Good morning.”

“Yeah.” His voice is raspy in the mornings and is rarely in sync with his brain. The things Zayn's heard him say at times like these no-one, not even Liam himself, would believe.

He laughs, kisses him deeper. “You awake?”

“I am now.” Liam's hands are definitely awake now - they’re saying hello to his backside.

Zayn slides on top of him, giving his cock the opportunity to greet Liam's.

They do this dance so often that they can let their bodies take over while they speak with their eyes, tongues and lips.

He's always intense, he knows that, but Liam is too and sometimes between them they make each other weep tears of blood. It's hard to love so deeply, to want and know you can never have – as far as he's aware it's not yet physically possible to entwine yourself with, embed yourself within another person, and it's what they both wish for, what they both regret not being able to do.

“Alright?” Liam's fingers are gripping his arse so hard he knows there'll be marks later, but that’s _not_ what he's asking.

Zayn nods, not interested in speaking. He isn't alright, but he's not going to talk about it, certainly not now.

He doesn’t want this to end, but knows that the longer he's here, like this, so intimately connected to him, the more certain it is that Liam will know that he is far, far from alright and he can't let him know, can't let on at all.

 

**

 

Once he decides, it's surprisingly easy.

He has thought about it before – when he's been at the really low points, thought about it a lot - but never really as something viable, something he could actually bring himself to do, but that one moment of utter clarity was all it took.

It is quite ironically amusing because the ease with which he carries out his plan assures him that he'd been unconsciously planning this for a very long time. He's got everything in place without apparently _consciously_ planning it to be so, and disappearing happens seamlessly, without muss or fuss.

He doesn't have an excuse ready for when they track him down, for when he turns up and tries to carry on with his life, because he's no longer afraid of what they’ll do to him. The only thing they're able to threaten him with is smearing his reputation, and at this point he understands that the media is so corrupt that you may as well not even bother to attempt to go toe-to-toe with them – they play with loaded dice, with marked cards and you’d be a fool to expect anything to go in your favour in those circumstances. He hates the lies, the power they have to influence opinion, to warp truth, but knows that he can't win so has learned to regard the press as a weapon that can hurt him only if he plays their game, which means actually actually _caring_. He no longer cares.

People hate him and are looking for excuses to justify their hatred. Though the injustice hurts he's resolved not to allow it to matter – it isn't anything he's done, not even particularly personal. That's the thing about racism, it's rarely personal; it always starts with an idea you have about someone based on their race, and follows inexorably from there. Even if he converted to Christianity they'd still find reasons to dislike him, even if he went all out to be as 'English' as they could possibly want they’d still find reasons to hate him, and having recognised that, he's managed to put the hate into perspective.

It's harder when they target his family, but he's learned a lot from Liam and Harry about how to handle this sort of thing, and pretty much decides to steer clear of social media.

People abusing him in the street is so commonplace that, these days, he hardly notices it at all.

The only other way they have of getting to him is by targeting Liam, and in the past it's been a very effective tool. Anything that might hurt Liam, anything that might result in them being separated served to rein him in pretty effectively.

Things are different now.

He despises Perrie, hates being anywhere near her, but way above his own personal antipathy is the fact that he's being forced to lie to people he cares about, that the people he cares about are likewise being forced to lie (just through association with him).

What he knows about lying is that it erodes your sense of self – little by little, piece by piece. And this is not exactly a _small_ lie, it's a big fucking lie.

Yes, they are all aware that he and Perrie aren't really in a relationship, and no, it's not because they know he's actually in a relationship with Liam, it's the lying, the constant public _lying_ that is taking its toll, and he knows it has to stop.

But it has to _start_ with him.

 

 

**

 

He has no doubt that those close to him will understand; there'll be no recriminations because they know, they know exactly how fucking impossible everything is, that you can take a step there, a liberty here, but the yoke doesn't loosen, just gives a little so you don't quite choke, so that you can still be 'productive', but you're never really free of it, never really free at all.

He _wants_ to tell them why, but he can't do that, has to have this time to himself to finalise the final pieces of the thing, bolster his courage, because that is quite simply all it boils down. It's taken him a long time to see that, taken a long time to see that it is and has always been about fear – his fear, Liam's fear, Louis, Harry and Niall's fear, their families' love and fear for them. And it's all a lie. He reads so widely and so avidly that he can't quite believe that he's failed to take in the lessons from literature – sometimes the little guy _can_ win, sometimes it is _only_ the individual who can make a difference: one displaced rock causing a landslide. But he needed to see it for himself. Being told by anyone else to be brave, to commit an act of bravery wasn't going to cut it – not ever. Until that morning, when he'd looked into Liam's sleeping face, he'd felt powerless, aware he could occasionally stamp his feet, but not actually kick over any of the major obstacles in his way.

Now, he feels powerful.

It's not even about winning, about stopping them going ahead with all the PR stunts they have planned, it's about knowing he isn't a helpless pawn, that no matter what they do he has the capacity to simply withdraw, stop compromising and simply withdraw. He used to care about the others, worry about how his non-compliance would affect them, but he can't do that anymore.

They've gone further than any single one of them ever believed they could and if it all ends today, tomorrow, they will _all_ miss the lifestyle. It's been hard, but there have been _many_ perks along the way, and he will definitely miss those, but maybe it's time to face it; ask themselves whether or not the perks are actually worth it.

_He_ knows they aren't, knows that the others see it a little differently, but he's no longer prepared to allow the others to hobble him, to tether him to a Zayn Malik he sometimes fears he doesn't even really know, and certainly isn't particularly _fond_ of.

They're at the top of the world right now and it's a fact – it's the compromises, the going along with the PR lies that have got them there. This isn’t what they asked for, what any of them expected, but they have reaped the rewards of the compromises, the lies and manipulation of truth.

But as far as he's concerned the time's come to ask themselves just how much further they're willing to go, to decide at which point they actually become _complicit_ in their own bondage.

Breaking contracts is a massive no-no, has been spun as pretty much a capital offence, but he no longer cares, no longer even believes it. Their management team could take them to court, try to bankrupt them, but he is no longer as certain as he used to be that they'd do it, that they'd be certain of victory if they did. It's a good threat, but he's prepared to call their bluff now, because he's no longer driven by fear and is therefore _prepared_ to take his chances in court. He doesn’t actually care that he might lose and, right now, he doesn't think he will.

 

**

 

It's been a long time since he enjoyed singing. No, that's not entirely true:he always enjoys singing, and he enjoys performing, but it's been a very long time since picking up a mic was an act of unalloyed joy.

The fact is he hadn't projected himself into the future; a future where he'd be a star, a celebrity, so when it happens it's a bit of a shock. Over the course of the three years he's been here, been Zayn Malik, boyband member, the switch he expected to be flipped has been notable for its absence. He goes through the motions, hoping he can fake it until he makes it, but apparently it's not possible to do that indefinitely.

All he sees when he projects an image of his ideal future is him singing: singing to entertain, singing to give pleasure, singing to challenge and test himself. It doesn't matter about the millions of pounds he might accrue from his talent – it's the honing of the talent, the sharing of the talent that matters. He doesn't believe that where he is right now allows any room for growth, and fears that the longer he stays here, the longer he allows this seed to take root in his psyche, the seed that says that the money is all, that all else is secondary, the harder it will be to find that tender bud that is the _core_ of Zain, the core that he senses being eroded day by day.

He's ready to move on, not from his boys, not from the lifestyle even, but from the constant abuse of his inner core.

How many times can you shout down that voice which represents your integrity, beat it down, tell it that whatever it has to say will be ignored and compromised before it starts to _act_ like someone who's suffered constant, ongoing abuse and stop talking, start to feel like it doesn't matter, isn't worth a damn thing?

It's funny, because he's found that once you make a hard decision, especially if it comes as a result of just one straw too many, nothing after that is at all hard. It's like you wake from a dream and realise that what you thought was real – the weird landscape, even weirder 'monsters' – are _figments,_ with no more power to touch you than mist on a distant mountain top.

He stays away, not because he's afraid or uncertain, but because he knows he has the freedom to _dictate_ in the way he never recognised before.

And there are things he intends to dictate.

 

 

**

 

He didn't phone Liam or his family since he knew they'd be monitored and he didn't want to get them involved. They know he's okay – he's managed to assure them of that – so he isn't worried that they'll be worrying about him, what he needs to do now is stitch _them_ up good and proper, in such a way that they have no way to turn, have no choice but to accede to his terms.

What he needs is someone who can lie and obfuscate for England, and since there is only one group of people he's aware of who can do that in their sleep, he finds himself a lawyer.

 

 

**

 

It's not easy, but he deliberately misses the flight to Mexico, deliberately misses their first few concerts in the Americas.

He needs to show these people exactly how strong their hand is.

He hates doing that to the boys, but he needs to show these people just how strong their hand is...

 

 

**

 

He doesn't make the initial contact – his lawyer handles that.

Zayn knows he's not a particularly good liar, but this is different, for this he's prepared to lie through his fucking teeth. He despises these people so much that he would look them in the eye and swear that white was black _and_ be able to convince them. He also knows that as the victim of a successful kidnap attempt he is going to be showing all the signs of trauma they'd expect, so they'd naturally have to go easy on him.

They aren't pleased, but what on earth can they do? They don't want it to get out that one of the members of One Direction was kidnapped under their watchful eye – this would be so bad for business it's not even funny. He and his lawyer briefly toss around the idea of playing up the Islamophobia angle but decide to go for Greed, Opportunism and Psychotic Stalkery rather than Hate Crime. He would love to be able to get back at all the people who hate him for his race and religion, but his integrity won't allow him to take the lie that far – they might target him, but he won't stoop to their level by targeting them in return.

They ask for a meeting with him, but he refuses – he's in a bad way and needs to be with his family. His lawyer will soften them up, not quite threatening to take this to the press, but certainly hinting that press involvement might be an option.

He had to lose his phone – the kidnappers wouldn't allow him to have a phone, would they? But he's transferred the important numbers to a new pay -as-you go handset – something basic and untraceable.

He doesn’t call Liam yet, though he misses him like crazy, watching the news, monitoring the social media sites for news of him – them.

He sees all the rumours about him, all the rumours about him and Liam and nods to himself – this is what he's come to expect. None of it matters, though. The only thing that matters is seeing this through and being with Liam – at last.

 

**

 

“And you're sure you're alright, Zayn?” She's very good at giving a show of concern, but he knows her tricks by now. It's quite amusing, though, to see her being hobbled by the presence of his lawyer – one step out of line, one word in the wrong direction and he'll pounce.

“I’m better,” he says, implying that he's anything but.

“Hmm,” she says, shark smile at the ready. “Good. It's just that we're in a quite awkward position at the moment, Zayn.” He feigns interest. “Yes, well, we've lost a fair bit of time with you – er with what happened to you, and now we're playing catch up.” Another shark smile as she picks up a familiar folder.

“May I see that?” His lawyer has his own version of the shark smile and he's showing a little of it now.

“Um, this? Oh it's just some bumf about public appearances and-”

“Oh I'm sorry, we'll have to renegotiate that, I’m afraid.”

“Sorry?”

“No, my client can't possibly be exposed that way after what just happened to him. As you know, we would rather not take it to the press, but maybe that might not be such a bad idea, after all.” He looks at Zayn as if for a consultation. “I mean, maybe if the public become aware of what happened to him they might understand why he no longer appears in public outside of interviews with his fellow band members and at concerts. Zayn?”

Zayn, staring down at his feet, gives a non-committal shrug.

There is a trickle of silence while she thinks furiously. “Well we'd have to rethink some of the public appearances, of course. I mean none of us want any harm to come to Zayn – any of our clients.”

“Yeah, I have a contract drawn up, specifying our terms and conditions.” He hands over the document.

The rustle of paper's the only sound that breaks the long silence that follows as she reads it through.

Zayn keeps his eyes lowered.

His lawyer sits, still and confident, by his side.

He knows he's won, knew he'd won the moment he _made_ the decision, but when she signs, shark smile stapled in place and wishes them a good day between professionally gritted teeth, it's all he can do not to give a victory yell right there and then.

Outside, he and his lawyer shake hands and part company.

There’s a car waiting to take him home.

He'll take a day, and after that he'll be on a plane and on his way to Liam.

 

 

**

 

He phones him first, of course, and is distressed when he hears how upset he is. He tries to reassure him, genuinely astonished at the reaction. Liam got a message saying he was fine, why is he so distressed?

Liam wants to meet him at the airport, but Zayn dissuades him: if he's this emotional an airport meeting will not be good.

He tries to remain calm on the long journey to the hotel, but not only is he missing Liam like hell, he's also worried now too.

Had he miscalculated? Was Liam not as alright with this as he expected him to be?

They'd booked them into a double suite as usual and Liam's waiting for him at the door.

He smiles, but his eyes are damp and he looks thinner.

It's been just over two weeks since he saw him and he looks so much thinner.

“Hey,” he says, putting both arms around him. Liam holds him so tight he fears for his ribs. “Missed you,” he whispers.

“Me too,” Liam says, but he's crying. There's no hope of hiding it from him, but he seems to want to try.

“Hey. Come on.” He looks into his face, kisses the tears marking his cheeks. “I'm here, I'm whole, I'm well.”

“I know, I know.” He's holding him a little less tightly now, but he's crowding him, trying to get as close as possible; smelling him – hair, neck, face. “I hated not being able to talk to you. Even if I couldn’t see you, I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Me, too, babe, but I'll explain why and what happened.” He's trying to lead them to the sofa so they can talk, but Liam won't allow him room to move. Zayn looks into his face. “What’s happened?”

Liam just stares at him and Zayn can see he's on the verge of bawling, so he strokes his hair, then drags his hand gently down his face, touches his mouth. “I saw what was happening on Twitter and Tumblr if that's what’s bothering you.” He shrugs. “We both know how that goes.” It's a question and Liam silently nods. “We cool?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

Zayn kisses him gently on the mouth. “Me too. Do you want to talk or...?”

Liam smiles through his tears and Zayn can see that it's a genuine smile, tinged with both relief and real happiness. “Or.”

“Correct! I'll give you your gold star later, and we'll talk later. Good plan?”

“The best.”

“Come on then, I've missed this.” He lays a palm against the front of Liam's jeans, grinning.

Liam winks and leans in to whisper in his ear...


End file.
